


Just a Kismet-Driven Cowboy/Spaceman Kinda Love Thing

by punkrockgaia



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, fluffy fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/pseuds/punkrockgaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos didn't believe in miracles, not in fate or in destiny or Kismet or Karma, but sometimes, oh, sometimes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Kismet-Driven Cowboy/Spaceman Kinda Love Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Monica_Angelo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Monica_Angelo).



> Happy Birthday to Monica!

Carlos was nearly asleep when he felt, rather than heard, a low chuckle rumble through Cecil's chest. He was exhausted, but he was utterly charmed by the strange and beautiful man that shared his bed, so he raised his head and opened his bleary eyes, then pressed a kiss to Cecil's warm, slightly sticky shoulder.

"What's so funny?" he breathed, nuzzling and kissing from deltoid to clavicle to sternocleidomastoid, more affectionate than seductive. Well, maybe a little seductive. Mostly affectionate, partly seductive. The intent was affection, but if Cecil _happened_ to be seduced, well, who was he to argue?

Cecil ran his fingers through Carlos' hair, sighing happily. "Oh, nothing, nothing, just remembered something funny from when I was a kid."

"Oh, yeah?" Carlos stilled the progress of his lips across Cecil's chest. Cecil rarely spoke about his childhood. It was like he'd sprung into existence fully-formed at the age of 18, save for a few scattered memories of the Boy Scouts and a deep well of love for his absent mother. 

"Yeah." Cecil blushed, the colors of the desert sunset creeping across his fine, high cheekbones. 

"Tell me."

"Oh, it's really stupid. I was just remembering a game that Earl Harlan and I used to play."

_Earl._ Carlos took a deep breath and reminded himself that there was no reason, **no reason at all** to be jealous of someone that (a) Cecil had never actually dated, not really, and (b) had disappeared or was dead or something. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah? What was the game?"

"Well -- we were really young, keep in mind, like kindergarten or something -- but we liked to play cowboys, and we liked to play house, so we came up with this game called 'Cowboy House.'"

Carlos grinned. "Cowboy House?"

"Yeah. We were two cowboys -- Dusty and Ned, I was Ned -- who were married to each other. We had a baby named Bernice, and we took care of her and we stopped cattle rustlers and had gun fights and cooked dinner."

Carlos felt his grin stretch wider as a peal of laughter escaped from his mouth. Cecil stiffened a bit, sheepish.

"I know it's stupid, but we were kids..."

"No, no, Cecil, I don't think it's stupid at all! No!" 

Carlos didn't believe in miracles, not in fate or in destiny or Kismet or Karma, but sometimes, oh, sometimes... Just to think, all the time he was growing up, somewhere out there was another boy, contending not with blizzards and bland suburban sprawl but with sandstorms and the endless stretch of the desert, growing up and becoming imperfectly perfect, all for him. He heaved himself up to face Cecil and kissed him, hard, then broke the kiss and stared into his eyes.

"I'm not laughing because I think it's stupid, I'm laughing because -- well, when _I_ was a little kid, probably about the same age, I had this friend, Nathan. And Nathan and I liked to play Star Trek, and he was Captain Kirk and I was Mister Spock, but we were married and had a space-house on the moon..."

"Really?" Cecil was grinning, then, too.

"Really. Well, until our parents figured out what we were playing and made us cut out the moon house thing."

"Why? Oh, of course. The moon, right?"

"No, Cecil. For the hundredth time, the moon is real, it's pretty well understood, and humans walked on the moon before you or I were even born. No, it was because we were two boys pretending to be married."

"Ohhhh, I keep forgetting that people outside care about that kind of thing. I'm so sorry, my Carlos."

Carlos shook his head. "Don't be. That's not what's important any more. What's important is... you. And me. And us. And this. You make me very, very happy... Ned." He kissed the tip of Cecil's nose.

Cecil batted his eyelashes. "Why, Mr. Spock! You can invade my moon base any time."

"And you can rope me and brand me and call me your best steer."

"Uh, Carlos, steers don't have... Well, they don't... uh... have all their parts." 

"Oh." Carlos thought for a moment. Sexy talk was not his forte. "Well, uh, then you can rustle, uh... my... cattle drive... uhm..."

Cecil groaned. "Just shut up and kiss me, City Boy."

"Gladly." He kissed him, and kissed him again, and as their bodies tangled the moon's light beamed down onto the saguaros and the mesquite and the vast desert distance.


End file.
